


you're venomous, you're poison

by Clown_Teeth



Category: Slipknot (Band), Stone Sour (Band)
Genre: 4, AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Band, Alternate Universe - Police, Attempted Sexual Assault, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death Threats, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, NSFW, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Overdosing, Police, Police Brutality, RPF, Rape/Non-con Elements, Selling Drugs, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Triggers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 06:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30135627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clown_Teeth/pseuds/Clown_Teeth
Summary: The pills were beginning to make you feel sick, and you prayed to just make it through this, just for this to be over, just to stay awake…Just stay awake.
Relationships: James Root/Reader, Jim Root/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	you're venomous, you're poison

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't support cops in any form, just had this idea for a good power dynamic and wanted to write it out

You hadn’t even noticed him, which was surprising, since you could always sniff out cops like it was your sixth sense. So when he had grabbed you, yanked you into that alley, you screamed for help, convinced that someone was trying to kidnap you, or jump you, or rob you of your product. 

When he slammed your back against the metal dumpster, you only screamed louder, thrashing and writhing against him, trying to break his hold. The strong stench of rotted food filled your nose, making your eyes water, and you fought back a gag. You kicked at your captor’s legs, crying out. “Let me  _ fucking _ go!” you screeched, trying to claw at his face. 

He grabbed your shoulders, pulling you close to him, and slammed you back against the dumpster, harder this time, your head thudding against the cold metal. You slumped in his arms, the blow briefly knocking the fight out of you. You whined helplessly, your head falling onto his shoulder. Your forehead brushed against something cold and hard, and you pulled back to look at what it was. 

Your stomach dropped to your ass when you saw it was a badge. 

“What are you doing out here?” a loud, clear voice rang out from above you, and you looked up at the  _ officer _ weakly. 

“I…” you swallowed, excuseless. 

What could you say at this point? He could already nail you for resisting arrest and assaulting an officer, which gave him full rights to search you. And once he found that oxy in your pocket… you were fucking screwed.

“I was just walking home,” you answered, your mouth dry. 

“Bullshit,” he spat, glaring down at you. “I’ve watched you sell to three different people in the last two hours, I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

That’s it, you were fucked. 

He started patting you down, roughly dragging his hands over your jacket pockets. “What do you have, huh? What all do you got on you?” he questioned, his tone angry. 

“Nothing, I sold it all,” you answered quickly, praying to whatever god was out there that he’d believe you.

He laughed in disbelief, unzipping your jacket and shoving it down your shoulders, carelessly discarding it to the side. “Sure. Now be honest with me,” he spoke lowly, pressing his hips against your stomach, making sure you felt his gun digging into your side. 

You whined, helpless, and stayed silent as he continued to search you. Eventually, his large hand slipped into the pocket of your jeans and withdrew the small bag of blue-ish, off-white pills. He waved the baggie in front of your face, disgust evident on his face. 

“It’ll do you good to stop lying to me,” he warned, slipping his knee between your thighs.

You gasped in confusion, but he pinned you to the dumpster with his leg, ignoring your pleas to be released as he opened the bag, pouring the contents into his palm. He tossed the bag to the side, inspecting the small pile of pills in his hand.

With his free hand, he grabbed you by the throat, pinning you back against the dumpster.

"This is what you're giving people?" his voice was a low snarl, rage burning in his eyes, his nostrils flaring. "This is what you're making people put in their bodies? This is fucking  _ poison _ ."

You were consumed by fear, trembling in his grasp, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“Please… I’m sorry….” you pleaded, but he only continued to ignore you. 

Prying your jaw open, he forced the rest of your supply into your mouth, using his long fingers to shove them down your throat, forcing you to swallow. You sputtered, spitting and gagging around his fingers, but he kept shoving pills down your throat until there was none left, leaving your mouth dry and your tongue coated in bitter, chalky powder. He let go of your throat, and you spat on the ground repeatedly, desperate to throw up. You had twenty-four pills left, you knew that for certain. And if he gave you all of them…

“What kind of fucking cop are you?!” you cried, shoving at his chest, trying to get him off of you.

He grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around, and shoved your face against the disgusting dumpster. You writhed against him, fighting to be free, but he pressed his chest against your back, using his body to pin you tighter against the metal. His lips dragged along the shell of your ear, and you shuddered in disgust. “If you have a problem with the way I work,” he whispered, his tongue flicking over your earlobe. “Feel free to call my boss. Tell him James Root stopped you, badge number 5746.”

His confidence shook you to the core, and you felt bile rising up your throat. He could do whatever he wanted to you, couldn’t he?

“Well, if the pills don’t kill you off, that is,” he continued, letting out a laugh. 

He was right, if you didn’t make yourself puke or go to a hospital soon, your liver would be fucked. You’d be puking blood by morning, and you’d be lucky if you made it through the rest of the day. 

“Please, let me go,” you were begging, grinding your teeth together to keep from crying. “Let me go to a hospital, you made your point, I get it, I’ll stop selling-”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop lying to me?” he questioned, his facial hair brushing over your neck. “You’re just making this worse for yourself...”

His hands dragged down your sides, over your hips, and he hummed with interest. 

“Don’t...please…” you whispered, frozen in place. 

“Shut up,” he snapped, his fingers dipping in the waistband of your jeans.

You whimpered, and he ran his tongue up your neck. You trembled, disgusted, scared, and he slowly started to grind his hips against your lower back. No longer able to fight back the tears, you let out a stifled sob, falling limply against the dumpster.

The pills were beginning to make you feel sick, and you prayed to just make it through this, just for this to be over, just to stay awake…

Just stay awake.

**Author's Note:**

> anyways uh, here's an au that my friend requested. very out there, but I love evil jim soooo


End file.
